Why You?
by Jadeaffection
Summary: When Fate decided to mess with Draco and Hermione, it wasn't kidding around. Throwing them together at every turn, forcing them closer. You'd think they were supposed to fall in love or something! Language, Sexual situations, abuse, spoilers. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. If it did, Dramione would be fact, Cedric would live and Neville would get more book time.

Well, here it is! My first multi-chap story.

It's starts in seventh year towards the end of the school year. It's also not really DH compliant but will have some spoilers from all books. I am such a fanfic addict that I seriously have no idea what's canon and what's not anymore.

I just take bits from canon that I like and throw away what I don't, so no bagging out if I get facts wrong. I do that on purpose. On the other hand, constructive criticism is always welcome.

Please read authors note at end!

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There was a draft, as there often is in older buildings. It played with the curls that brushed her cheeks and surrounded her tear stained face.

She was shivering, not from the cold but from the memories. His hands were all over her. On her hips, her thighs, her breasts, her… It made her physically ill to think about it. She had struggled, scratched, hit, kicked and even bitten him.

She had screamed but on the abandoned second floor corridor, away from common rooms, dormitories and teachers residences, no one had heard her.

She sat there now, in a small alcove, rocking back and forth silently praising her quick intelligence. For the few seconds after he pulled her from her night time patrol and into the alcove, she had forgotten she was a witch. The panic and realness of the situation had blinded her to any means of escape bar the physical, the muggle.

It took a few moments for her brain to kick into gear, for her to reach for her wand. He was actually licking her neck when she cursed him. It was a good one too! The most painful, legal one she could think of. Aimed right at his crotch. She might be inexperienced but she was most defiantly not naïve or stupid.

His knees buckled and he grabbed her for support, breaking the spaghetti strap on her singlet top as she pushed him away. That was when he had hit her. Not just hit her but hit her so hard that she felt like her face had exploded. She saw stars and then he slapped her before punching her in the jaw. She cursed him again and this time he left. Ran away, mumbling foul words into the darkness.

She was a Gryffindor, she was head girl. Damn it, she was Hermione Granger! No one was going to get the better of her.

Only then did she cry. Only then did she collapse to the ground shaking like the proverbial leaf.

She was thankful now that she had waited to break down; glad no one had seen her like this. Now all she had to do was collect herself, get to her room and clean up. Then, when she finally told people about tonight, she would be a tower of strength.

Hermione tried to stand but her legs buckled. She gave a small grunt of annoyance. Suddenly, standing in front of her was one of the last people she would ever want to see. At any time, not to mention now. And why was he always cussing.

***

'What the fuck Granger!'

Draco Malfoy looked down at the girl before him. Like most times, he swore to cover for some feeling or the other. This time it was shock. Never before had he seen Granger looking so vulnerable, so scared, and so timid.

And he hadn't done a damn thing. There was no way anyone was pinning this on him. He was just being a good boy, doing his night time patrol when he thought he heard something.

All he had wanted at the end of last year was atonement for what he had tried to do. He was truly sorry and was it really his fault his father had fucked him up so royally.

Surrendering to the Order had been hard for him, with his pride and all, but after the Dark Lord had killed his mother, he had no choice. With nowhere to go and a lack of conviction in the very thing he was raised to stand for, joining his saviour as a turncoat was a given.

He may still bow before that scumbag, but that was only in the flesh. His loyalty could never remain with the bastard that proceeded to kill his mother on a technicality.

He was there when Dumbledore died, he set it up. Just because he didn't fire the killing curse. It made his blood boil just thinking about it.

Now he was head boy, under Snape's protection as new headmaster, reporting to the Order and walking on eggshells around the golden trio. They didn't trust him and Draco didn't blame them. Just because he was no longer on the other side didn't mean he was on theirs.

His loyalties lay with himself now and perhaps Snape for saving his life. He should probably include her but he hadn't changed that much.

He only joined the Order because although Malfoys lacked a certain moral compass they always had a strong survival instinct. Now here he was, wandering through the night after strange noises. Generations of Malfoys would be rolling over in their graves.

Sick of waiting for Granger to respond he continued.

'You better not be trying to get out of patrol Granger. I mean its bad enough that I have been lowered to doing such menial things but for someone like you to be given the honour and then shirk it! Don't be an ungrateful little Mudblood.'

Yes, that should provoke her nicely. Draco waited for the snappy comeback or even a sign that he should duck. Instead, for the first time in his life, he saw Granger cry.

Hopefully you liked it. Please review and let me know. Chapters might be slow as even though I have at least 4 more already written I haven't finished the story yet and don't want to get ahead of myself.

Remember:

Reviews = Love

Love = Confidence

Confidence = Inspiration

and

Inspiration = Me getting off my lazy butt and writing more!

Its up to you! xx


	2. Sudden Illumination

I don't own Harry Potter and do not make any profits from this writing. I am just a obsessed fan who can't move on and thinks that Draco and Hermione were sooooo getting it on behind J.K's back!

Ok, just a quick note this time. To be honest I really don't have time to be posting at all but I thought I should stop any hate mail or letter bombs. Anyhoo, I will thank my reviewers properly and write something witty and entertaining next time. Which, hopefully will be very soon as Uni is now wrapping up and I have just finished my exams. Here is the next chapter……

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Damn stupid Malfoy. What in Merlin's name was he doing here. He should be patrolling the first floor. Hermione looked up at the boy in anger.

Why was it him who had to find her like this? It was bad enough she had to share the heads common room with him, putting up with his snarky comments and obnoxious attitude. Now she would never live tonight down. That pretentious little ferret would hold it over her head forever.

The night the know-it-all Gryffindor princess couldn't keep it together. The night she became a quivering mess. The night she was nearly raped. The night she proved to everyone that she couldn't take care of herself. The night she wasn't able to hide her hurt. The night she needed someone to hold her and make it all alright.

Hermione could feel the tears building in her eyes and she wished her mum or Mrs. Weasley was here. Hell, right now she would settle for McGonagall. She didn't want Harry because he had enough to worry about, and Ron would just be a prat and make the whole thing much worse.

Stupid Malfoy, why was he just standing there? Why couldn't he just get the teasing over with? Then he spoke. It was so much worse than teasing.

He spoke to her as if nothing was wrong. Damn you Malfoy, couldn't you just acknowledge what was going on. His indifference made her feel more alone than ever.

That was when the tears came. They fell forth from her eyes before she had any say in the matter. Hermione knew she had to get away before she broke down again. She stood on her now somewhat more stable legs. She was in the process of pushing past Malfoy when her face became suddenly illuminated by the candle light that the alcove had shielded it from.

She paused all of a sudden when she heard a sharp intake of breath and mumbled obscenity come from Malfoy. Through her tears, she saw him look from her face, to the broken strap on her top, to the mess called her hair before returning to the tears streaming over her flushed cheeks.

A look of realisation suddenly came over his face before he swore again. Hermione saw the change is his piercing grey eyes and she understood that he had only just caught on to the situation. The swing from feeling completely alone to having someone know was too much for her to cope with.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had flung herself at Malfoy, wrapped her arms around his neck and had begun sobbing without restraint into his chest.

***

Draco could cope with many things, being crucioed half to death for not killing Dumbledore was one of them. Nevertheless, crying girls gave him heart palpitations.

He was about to make some haughty comment before taking his leave when she stood up and made to push past him. Her face, which was previously hidden by shadows, caught the light.

Immediately Draco could see the tell tale signs of bruising around her eye, across her cheek and along her jaw. They were just starting to show but he had seen the beginnings of bruises on his mother enough times to tell.

'Fuck' Draco breathed.

Granger hadn't just been hit, she had taken a beating.

She froze before turning back to look at him. Draco studied her face almost absentmindedly, thinking about his mother, before his gaze dropped to her shoulder. The strap of the, to him, very un-Granger like pink top dangled, ripped from its stitches. His eyes then made their way back up her body to study her hair. Although as bushy and messy as usual, he could tell that it had begun the patrol in a well-groomed ponytail. Looking back at her face, he knew. He didn't know how, he just knew.

'Fuck' he murmured.

_Good one Draco_, he thought immediately as he mentally bitch slapped himself. Here's Granger, going through what is probably the worst moment of her life, and you swear at her knowing full well she hates curse words. High five for having all the tact of a premenstrual Hippogriff!

It had suddenly become one of those rare times in his life where Draco was lost for words. What do you say at a time like this, when the person who needs comfort most likely wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire.

Then again, he was talking about Granger, the goody two shoes. She would probably save his life and then give him a lecture on fire safety without thinking twice. Hell, she had already saved him once. Question was, would he spit on her?

More important question, is it possible to not ramble in your head when you are out of your depth?

Draco was suddenly rescued from his own thoughts when Granger threw herself into his arms. His first instinct was to wrap his arms around her trembling body. His second instinct was the thought that he should throw her to the floor in disgust. Just because he no longer wanted her dead, it did not mean he had suddenly become St Draco, Patron saint of Mudbloods.

However, thoughts of his mother prevented him from turning away a woman in distress. How any man could physically mistreat a woman was beyond him.

He tightened his hold, while his hand made slow calming circles on her back and he whispered comfort into her hair. Her tears were soaking through his t-shirt and he knew he couldn't push her away now if he tried. Not even Mudbloods like Granger deserved this. Besides Draco owed her.

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Reviews are love! xx


	3. Padded cells

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make money from writing this fic. However I do believe that I should and that when Rose was conceived Hermione was thinking of Draco!!

Howdy all, I'm back! 'At last', I hear you mutter while you push aside the ingredients for a Molotov cocktail and a tattered piece of paper with my address on it.

Well firstly I would like to thank my ever patient reviewers:

A big thanks to: _Bookangel812, EpicLoVeFan, Edwardslover09, tess1tess, LosingTrack and Athenavienna_.

To _disinterested_, yes she did but will she tell? Not Ron, as I've pointed out but your opinion of him is excellent! Thanks!

To _Larilaya_, your reviews are always so flattering. I would make them longer but I tend to suffer writers block. Cheers!

And finally to _shikiXichijo23_, I'm glad you like the Draco I've chosen to use. He will seem a little OOC but there is a back story that when read will explain it. Thank you!

Also if there are any fanvid makers out there who are into unusual ships and like Veronica Mars, BBC's Robin Hood, Harry Potter (duh), Twilight, The Mighty Ducks, School Of Rock, A Knights Tale, Saved By The Bell, Smallville or Supernatural, check out my _Strange and Beautiful _vidding contest on Youtube .com/watch?v=2KMOE-whWTc (and yes, I realise how odd I am. I tend to embrace it!)

Enjoy the next chapter.

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What in the name of Merlin's best blue underpants was she doing? Here she was in an abandoned corridor, wand on the floor, in the arms and completely at the mercy of Draco Malfoy.

Moreover, she was the one who started it. Hermione Granger had leapt into the arms of Malfoy. If she could kick herself right now without drawing attention, she would. However, seeing as she was pressed right up against his body, it seemed unlikely.

She would have asked herself what she had been thinking but she already knew the answer. Nothing! But then again that's not true. Now that she had started calming down she could see at least some of her reasoning. She needed someone, he was there and beyond that, she knew, almost implicitly, that he wouldn't hurt her.

Kick dirt in her face and call her a Mudblood, more than likely. Fight her in a fair duel, defiantly. But try as she may, with all the hatred for him she had garnered through the years, she could not imagine him hurting her physically.

At that thought, she snuggled in closer. Hermione could not believe herself. Just as she was about to recoil in horror at what had transpired she heard a voice in her head.

_Shut up and go with it. You over think. You need to be held right now, need to be comforted. I don't care if it is Malfoy. He's better than a Blast-Ended Skrewt. He won't hurt you. Just go with it Granger!_

For once, she decided to go with her impulsive side. As her breathing slowed and her sobs stopped shaking her whole body, Hermione began to relax in Malfoy's arms. Was he actually comforting her? The circles his hand was making on the small of her back felt so tender that she had to remind herself whose hand it was.

Everything was so muddled in her head it took her some time to realise that he was murmuring soothing words into the hair near her ear. Slowly everything was coming into focus. Malfoy was holding her up, supporting all her weight. And damn it all if he didn't smell great.

As soon as that thought popped into her head she knew she had finally lost it. She began dwelling on what sort of mental hospital she would prefer to be committed to. Before she got as far as wondering if straightjackets came in colours other than white, she felt him move his body away as if to talk or at least look at her.

Here it comes, she thought. The snide remark, the "I know I'm gorgeous but why must you throw yourself at me Granger". They never came. Instead, when his stormy grey eyes came to rest on her own she saw only sympathy and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

He gently brushed a stray curl from her face before lightly running his fingers over the throbbing that was her jaw. If she didn't know better she would swear he was about to cry. Then it was gone, replaced by anxiety. Hermione could see a question floating in his eyes, too bad he couldn't get it out his mouth.

'Um, I suppose you are, or um were a….how far did he aahh um…. I mean did he?'

She had to suppress a giggle. All this and now she wanted to laugh. That padded cell was calling her name.

She rationalized that it was her coming down from the adrenaline added to the fact that she felt so safe in his arms. Malfoy had never ever looked this nervous or unsure. Harry had mentioned how he looked on the tower that horrible night but this was new to her. He actually looked cute all flustered.

***

Granger's legs seemed to have lost all power so Draco, initially with stomach turning, took the hand that wasn't on her back, put it under her bum and took her weight.

After a few moments, Draco felt her stiffen in his arms. Then, if it was even possible, she moved closer. She smelt like vanilla and Draco found himself purposely breathing in the scent. But what was more surprising was that he realized that he had always assumed Granger would smell of jasmine like his mother. Probably because they were both strong and intelligent women, he reasoned.

Not that he would ever admit it to Granger but he had always thought of her as such. And this more than anything vexed him. How could someone so worthless be his intellectual superior? Not by much, mind you but enough so that he faced his father's wrath every time her marks exceeded his own.

Thinking of the beatings he took at his father's hands brought his tangled mind back to his mother. The nights he had spent holding her just like this, hearing her voice tremble as she tried to tell him everything was fine, that daddy was just a little angry and he didn't mean it.

Draco's arse he didn't mean it. He was a cruel, heartless, prejudiced bastard. Draco hated him almost as much as he hated the Dark Lord. At least his father had never succeeded in killing his mother.

Draco loved her so much it was hard to breathe when he thought about her. He had seen her die, watched that fucking arsehole cast the killing curse.

What the fuck was he doing? Thinking about his mother and getting all teary eyed. He didn't even bloody cry when it happened so he wasn't going to start now. Especially not standing in a school corridor holding Granger. What if someone saw?

_Focus Draco_. He needed to get her to the infirmary. But there was no way she was walking there on those legs. He would have to carry her.

He was just about to lift her when the thought struck him. Surely Granger was a virgin. Really, who would touch her? Ewwwww! _Focus Draco. You're touching her._ But if she was and that turd did you-know-what then…

Well he couldn't just go picking her up. He could cause her more damage. Bloody hell! He would have to ask her.

Very gently, he slowly moved her body so he could look at her face. All of a sudden, Draco saw his mother. Her clear blue eyes, long blonde hair, that smile she reserved just for him. And her beautiful pale skin covered in ugly bruises.

He moved some of her hair before allowing his fingers to follow her coloured jaw line. Merlin, he missed her. _Focus Draco. Remember Granger. She kind of needs you now. She looked after you. It's your turn. SNAP OUT OF IT LOSER! _

Then his mother was gone and instead of blue eyes, he was looking into the unusual cinnamon coloured eyes of Granger. Shit! She now thinks you're a freak and you still have to ask her.

He began talking but, funnily enough, it didn't come out right. Somehow, she understood. He saw a light in her eyes and if it was possible for her emotion-flushed cheeks to get any redder, they did.

'Yes I am,' she murmured, 'and he didn't get that far. Why do you need to know?'

Draco let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Somehow, if Granger stayed the face of all that was good and pure, the world made sense.

He gave her his patented smirk.

'So I can do this.'

Without giving her time to object to his chauvinism, he moved his hand that was under her bottom to her shoulders and his other arm to behind her knees. In one deft movement, he swept her off her feet and began carrying her down the corridor bridal style.

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And as I seem to have become a review whore, this is where I beg you to do just that!

Reviews ARE love! xx


	4. Draco Bear?

Disclaimer: Yet again I must tell you the horrible truth about my lack of ownership. I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make money from this story. *goes off to bury her head in ice cream*

I'm back at last. Is it just me or is the holiday season always a crazy-busy time? Anyhoo, though I didn't post or do much writing, I got to spend time with my family which is awesome. Also they inspire me a lot (most of them are a few long-boats short of a Viking invasion! I can say that, they're my family!) and help me make my writing more interesting.

I will thank my reviewers next chapter as it is ridiculously early in the morning, I'm running out of Coke, I'm so tired that I can't be arsed looking up names or reviews and the floating purple donkey thinks I should go to bed ( but he also thinks killing off Cedric was a good idea. Stupid donkey!)

My Youtube contest is still running by the way. Only one entry so far *pouts*. Please enter; if you do I will stop pestering you. Well at least about the contest. My channel name is Jadeaffection (one user name for everything solves so many problems).

Enough of my rambling, on with the story:

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By all rights, she should be screaming bloody murder. A boy, who prefers the dirt on his shoes to her had smirked, picked her up and was carrying her to Merlin knows where.

Still when Hermione had exclaimed about her wand, he had uttered 'Accio' and had it in her hand immediately. If he were planning anything, surely he wouldn't want her armed.

Apart from that, she knew, without a doubt, that he was taking her to the infirmary. Yes, alert the Daily Prophet, she trusted Malfoy to look after her. A lilac straightjacket would be nice. Maybe a dusky pink. Throwing what was left of her pride out the window, she pulled her arms tighter around him and nosed into his neck.

She closed her eyes, hoping to forget. Instead, she got a flashback. His hand on her breast, his face in that sickening grin before he began licking up her neck. It was all she could do to get out 'Down, now', before she promptly threw up.

Luckily, Malfoy was quick. He had managed to turn her enough, in the motion of putting her down that she was aiming at a quite ugly statue. Everything but his shoes came out unscathed.

As he lowered her to the ground, Hermione felt her world spin. Crouched on all fours she proceeded to throw up again. Pumpkin juice tastes better going down than it does coming up. Malfoy was holding her stray strands of hair back with one hand while his other resumed the comforting circles on her back.

What in Merlin's name was he playing at, looking after her like this. Then it hit her, requitement. He hated owing her. Well, that was fine by her.

Hermione slowly manoeuvred her self into a sitting position as she heard Malfoy utter 'scorgify'. Well that cleaned up the statue and the stone floor. All that was left was his shoes.

Suddenly it all collapsed. It was as though the whole situation had finally dawned on her. She knew it was real, but now it was heart wrenchingly real. She was very nearly raped. She could have been killed.

As all that weight settled on her shoulders her body went numb. She felt her mind heading the same way and she fought to stop it. She should be stronger than this. It broke her spirit to find that she wasn't.

The last thought to pass through Hermione's conscious before it succumbed to the overwhelming dark numbness was whether or not Italian leather stained.

***

They were almost there. One more flight of stairs and they would reach the infirmary. One more corridor and he would be rid of that intoxicating vanilla scent. Draco relaxed at the thought.

Then without warning Granger rubbed her nose against the crook of his neck. The feeling sent shivers up his spine and tickled like hell. It took all his well-honed control skills to stop himself from giggling.

Yes, giggling. Not laughing, giggling. That was all he needed. First, he turned into Florence freaking Nightingale then a silly schoolgirl. What next? A fucking Carebear. His mother had always been a secret fan of muggle cartoons. He began wondering if the dark mark would make an interesting tummy symbol.

Draco's attention was brought violently back to the situation at hand when Granger made a rather urgent sounding demand. Normally he would have argued, but something in her voice told him to obey. In less than two seconds he was glad he had.

Granger vomited all over some hideous statue. Draco lowered her carefully to the ground. Only then did he notice his shoes. Feeling the urge to copy her impressive digestive pyrotechnics, he quickly turned his head, breathing deeply the fresh air behind them.

He only turned back when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a repeat performance. How much spew could such a small girl hold. Apparently a lot. Fighting his own up-chuck reflex Draco leaned down to move her hair from in front of her face.

His hand rubbed her lower back, encouraging her to get it all out. He had no idea where the urge to see more Mudblood vomit had come from, but he knew it was better for Granger if she didn't hold it back.

The retching that shook her body ceased and she moved to the side. Making sure she had completely finished, Draco began cleaning up.

Personally, he thought the vomit improved the statue. Somehow, he knew McGonagall and Filch wouldn't agree.

He was just about to finally clean his shoes, although he should probably burn them, when he heard it. It was so subtle that had he even breathed at the wrong time it would have gone unheard. It was a sigh, a moan even, of defeat. And it came from Granger.

He turned just in time to see one of the most terrifying things he had ever seen in his life. Draco saw the light leave Granger's eyes. Those usually bright sparkling cinnamon orbs were now blank. Fuuuuuuuck!

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I shouldn't need to remind you again but reviews are love and they really do make my day! xx


	5. Flashbacks

Disclaimer: Surely my poor students existence, where I live for a week on a loaf of bread, would tip you off to the fact that none of this belongs to me.

I cant believe it has taken me so long to update. I beg your forgiveness. My time is not my own it belongs to the university beast and that pesky floating purple donkey that always shows up after four am. Sorry for the wait!

Thankyou everyone for your reviews and kind words I cant describe the pure joy I get when I see an email announcing a new review. You all make my day xx!

I now realise that I should have clarified something last chapter. Dracos unexplained knowledge of muggle things well in my mind its quite simple. Narcissa, being the strong woman she was, would have hated being dominated by Lucius and, while not being able to do anything about it, she would have found some way to defy/get back at him. How, you ask? Well, while Lucius was away being all evil, she took Draco to muggle movies, showed him muggle TV and generally immersed him in a muggle experience. It would have been her and Dracos little secret. She was awesome!

Anyhoo, enough of my chatter, here is the next chapter~

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Hermiones flashback: nearly a year ago:

The rain was coming down more heavily than Hermione had ever seen. It was almost as though nature or the earth its self was mourning the loss that the wizarding world felt so deeply.

He really was gone. The only person you-know-who was afraid of. As she mopped up the puddle in the corridor and stared out at the rain, Hermione couldnt help but think about how much everything at Hogwarts would change now that Dumbledore was dead.

She also couldnt help but wonder why a magical house like Grimauld place would leak. Surely they could fix the roof. She had just made a mental note to speak to Mrs Weasley about it when she heard a commotion downstairs.

Wand at the ready she ran down to investigate. Standing in the entrance way, surrounded by a sea of red heads, order members and Harry, was Severus Snape.

Since he had explained with evidence the whole killing Dumbledore thing this wasnt a major event. An uneasy acceptance existed between him and the order now. He was their inside man, their spy.

The kafuffle was caused instead by the young man being supported by Snape. He was unhealthily thin, with a sunken sallow face. His hair had been shaved so close he might as well been bald. His pants were in tatters. His bare upper body however was covered in scars, slightly healed wounds and deep gashes. His breathing was laboured and, from the awkward placement of his legs, Hermione could tell that they were useless, either from a spinal injury or exhaustion.

All in all he was not in good shape. Hermione studied him intently, trying to place the feeling of familiarity. Who was this poor boy? His face was so skeletal that, for the life of her, she could not identify him.

Suddenly his darkened eyelids fluttered open. With an anguished moan he was looking straight into her eyes. Only one boy had eyes of that colour grey, stormy, like thunder clouds.

'Draco' she breathed.

__

Malfoy. I meant Malfoy.

Hermione mentally chastised herself. She figured it must have been the shock of seeing him in such a state that caused her to use his first name.

What had happened to him? Before the question had even formed properly in her mind she knew. Malfoy had been tortured by you-know-who and the death eaters. For quite a while by the looks of it.

She felt tears well up in her eyes at the thought of what he must have gone through. Luckily Malfoys eyes had closed again. No way was he seeing her cry. The disbelief of seeing such a self-righteous, conceited person reduced to this pathetic excuse for a human being began to fade.

Hermione watched as his gaunt body shook with obvious pain and before she knew what came over her, she had rushed forward with Mrs Weasley to take him from Snape. Thankfully George was overcome with the same instinct because although Malfoy was half his usual weight he was still rather tall and awkward to carry.

They worked together to take him into the room on the first floor that had become their makeshift infirmary. They laid him on one of the cots and rushed to gather Mrs Weasleys medical supplies.

George was gaining disapproving grunts and glares from both Fred and Ron, which he shrugged off with a recognizable hand gesture. Thankfully, for him, Mrs Weasley was otherwise occupied. George flashed Hermione a conspiratorial grin. She returned it with one of her own, full of fondness. She had always assumed he was the considerate Weasley boy. This seemed to confirm it.

Harry, however, was watching from the corner with concerned eyes. His view of Malfoy had changed dramatically since that night on the tower.

As Mrs Weasley was the only one with any medi-witch training the rest of them listened to Snape as she examined Malfoy to assess the extent of his injuries.

***

Hermione was so close to vomiting she could taste the bile. How was he still alive? The tale of torture and torment that Snape recounted was too horrible to be true. There couldnt be people who would do that to another human being. It was then that Hermione made up her mind.

She was better than those homicidal lunatics. And she was not going to let a stupid reason stop her from being compassionate. She decided then and there that she would nurse Draco back to the proud, arrogant ass that he was.

She would get no thanks from him. That much she was certain of. But maybe, just maybe, when it mattered, karma would repay her.

***

She was cleaning his wounds when he awoke. The hatred in his eyes she was expecting. The pain too. What she hadnt counted on was the trust. He trusted her and he hated it. How could you be on the right side in a war if the other side was more likely to look after you than your own?

'Why are you here Granger?' He spat. 'Shouldnt your guard dogs have dragged you away from the big bad Malfoy?'

'Right now Malfoy, youre about as scary as a week old kitten. And for your information, I dont need their permission to do anything. If I did, you wouldnt be looking at your new carer.'

'What the fuck are you on Granger? Surely you want to spend as little time with me as I do with you. Just send in the fat woman and go muddy up some other room with you presence.'

Reminding herself how fragile he was, she simply rinsed out her cloth and began washing another wound. She would have liked to strangle him with it but she was being the bigger person.

'No dice Malfoy. No one else wants to look after you. Couldnt imagine why! You have SUCH a charming personality. Oh, and by the way, from now on, every swear word you utter is one anaesthetic charm I forget to use.'

It continued like that for a month. Then they started the painstaking rehabilitation. To put it nicely, his legs were screwed. Teaching someone to walk again isnt easy. Especially when they wont listen to a word that you say. Sometimes Hermione had Mrs. Weasley help her, sometimes George. Most of the time though no one wanted to be anywhere near Malfoy.

Still Hermione was there everyday, taking care of him and fighting with him. Though neither would admit it they fell into a comfortable routine and, when their sharp tongues were aimed together at something else, they even got along.

Mrs. Weasley had told Hermione that the chances of Malfoys legs returning to normal were slim to none. At least they were until she was told. Much to Malfoys disgust she worked him harder. He often complained about why she couldnt just let him rot in bed where he belonged.

Her enthusiasm however was infectious. Soon he was just as determined to walk again as she was to help him. And although they both denied it when George walked in on it, the brief awkward hug they shared when he took his first unaided steps was pure triumphant mutual bliss.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Review and let me know what you think! xx


	6. Squeeze

Disclaimer: Is not, has not been and never will be mine. Therefore no profit is made. Bugger!

I know I suck!!!!

Please read authors note at end…

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'If you don't stop touching her, I'm going to rip you a new arsehole Malfoy.'

She knew that voice. The anger, the childishness and the slight hint of stupidity.

'Well Weasley, if you pulled your head out of _your _arse, you would see that it's her that has my hand in a death grip. If you can loosen her damn fingers I would be more than happy to stop touching her.'

She knew that one too. The arrogance, the brooding and the subtle sexuality.

Oh Merlin, did she just think of Malfoy in that way. She sat up suddenly, only just realizing she had been lying down, and shook her head trying to dislodge those disturbing thoughts.

'It's alive' drawled Malfoy, his indifference oozing out of his pores.

However when she looked up into his eyes she would have sworn she saw relief and maybe a little concern. This was new. However before Hermione had time to ponder this unsettling development, reality and the situation at hand reared their ugly heads.

'Mione are you ok? Did Malfoy do this? Do you want me to hurt him? What was wrong with you? You were just staring straight ahead and mumbling. Pomfrey said we just had to wait for you to snap out of it. Did Malfoy curse you? I'll teach him a lesson if you want……'

As she watched the redhead rant she was overcome with an incredible urge to slap the freckles off his face. The memories of the incident were far too raw for her to cope with, let alone deal with Ron's idiocy on top of them.

She loved Ron dearly but the boy could be mentally and emotionally retarded ten ways to Saturday.

With gallant restraint Hermione let him know that Malfoy was innocent and that she was not in the mood to put up with his inanity. Okay, so maybe she was a little harsh. Looking at Ron's face droop, she could almost hear Malfoy's smirk.

She laid back down and closed her eyes, hoping to put everything in order. She liked order, order was good. Her lids shot open when a hand rested on her shoulder.

Ron, looking an awful lot like a naughty dog with his tail between his legs, had retreated. In his place stood Harry. Harry, whose gentle eyes, soft touch and quiet comfort, consoled her more than Ron's macho protecting aggression ever could.

'Some guy tried to force himself on you, didn't he?' Harry gently questioned.

Then as though he didn't believe she would answer, Harry looked to Malfoy. As she watched the blond incline his head in affirmation, Hermione was thankful she didn't have to say it.

Malfoy's confirmation was all Ron needed to explode. His ranting about death to sex fiends and painful revenge had barely begun before Harry had uncharacteristically roared at him to shut up.

'Listen Potter, though it actually pains me to say this, I mean physically pains me, I agree with the weasel'

If she hadn't already been lying down, those words coming out of Malfoy's mouth would have forced her to.

As it was, judging by the look on his face, Hermione wasn't entirely sure she shouldn't scoot over and offer Harry a lie down. Ron, however, was doing his best impression of a purple goldfish.

Harry was the first to recover and gave Malfoy a look that she wasn't meant to decode but which clearly translated to 'Not now'. He then turned back to Hermione.

'Maybe we should leave you alone to get some rest.'

Hermione wasn't sure that was such a good idea. Wasn't sure she wanted to be left alone with the images that were still playing in the shadows of her mind.

'Besides, I'm sure Pomfrey has some tests she wants to do, to make sure you're alright and to try and find out who the bastard was.'

And there it was. The one thing that just made this perfect night all that much better. She couldn't let Pomfrey run those tests, couldn't let anyone know who it was.

Hermione knew and it didn't make anything better. Hell, he hadn't even tried to hide his face. But the consequences of others finding out, especially Harry, were too horrible for her to even contemplate.

As Ron, still silently fuming, began to exit the room and Harry made movements to follow, Hermione felt a dull panic grip her body. Frantically thinking of a way to stop the whole stupid mess, it took her some time to realise that Harry had stopped his process of leaving and was now staring pointedly at a spot on the bed to her left.

She followed his gaze. It was then that Hermione realized she was holding Malfoy's hand.

***

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Why the hell wouldn't Granger snap out of it?

Draco considered slapping her. He had kind of wanted to since third year when he had received the same from her. And really who would blame him under the circumstances. She was mumbling like a mad woman, probably having some form of hysterics, he'd seen it done in muggle movies.

Somehow though, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sighing at his sudden softness, he consoled himself with the thought that, as soon as her bruises had healed and she regained her faculties, he would devote a great deal of time and energy into creating or recognising a situation in which slapping Granger would be an acceptable resolution.

Smiling at the thought, Draco took the only other course of action available to him. With some effort, he hoisted her over his shoulder and began the final leg to the infirmary.

Two seconds later the squeal that emerged from his mouth was decidedly girlish. Who would have thought that Granger's hand brushing against his arse would warrant such a response? Or the heat rushing to his groin.

He decided it was a side affect of not getting any in a while. Pansy was withholding until he said those three little words. He hoped she liked waiting.

Ignoring the rare blush that had begun to colour his pale cheeks, Draco gave a quick look to make sure that no one had seen or heard the incriminating moment, then hurried on his way.

Making it to the infirmary in record time, Draco began calling out for that Pomfrey woman. After waiting all of five seconds and deciding that you just couldn't get good help these days, he gave a moan of annoyance before moving to place Granger on one of the beds.

As he straightened up he suddenly felt a ridiculous amount of pressure on his right hand. Looking down Draco saw that, not only was Granger set on making him look, feel and act like an idiot _unintentionally or otherwise,_ she now seemed determined to squeeze every drop of blood out of his hand.

He would have liked to say he tried to release her grip. Yes, Draco would have liked to say he recoiled in disgust but that would be lying. And although he was quite good at it, he was trying to limit the amount of times he resorted to such methods. _Screw it… you tugged and tugged and she wouldn't let go… you almost vomited from the contact… happy now, you loser?_

He would have also liked to say that he didn't panic when he felt the desperation and anguish in her grasp. But instead Draco got flustered, screamed for Pomfrey as loud as he could and then had a small heart attack when she appeared at his side. _I am so ashamed!_

Gaining back his calm, he told the matron the gist of what had occurred, suggested she summon McGonagall and the other members of the trio before asking in a very detached and entirely unconcerned way, if Granger was going to be alright.

After giving Granger a quick scan, announcing that physically she was fine and that she just needed time to get her head in order, Pomfrey rushed off to notify the others.

Strangely enough Draco liked the woman; no nonsense that one. Efficient and competent. However his faith in her abilities did nothing to quell the inexplicable fear he felt for Granger's wellbeing.

What if it was his fault? Maybe he should have gotten her here quicker. The countless moments that had caused delay replayed in his mind. Potter would have his head on a plate for this.

Looking down at Granger, he almost wasn't sure he shouldn't perform the decapitation himself and leave Potter an I.O.U one bossy bookworm note. It would be easier and at least then he wouldn't have to put up with Weasley's ranting.

Suddenly the subjects of Draco's musings came storming through the infirmary doors, almost tripping over each other in their efforts to reach Granger's bedside. _Idiots! _As the doors closed he glimpsed McGonagall, talking with Pomfrey, in the hallway. Probably discussing whether or not to wake Snape.

With the thought of the former potions master came a new, intensely disturbing one. Was this whole thing a death eater plot? Abusing young girls was certainly their style but wouldn't he have heard about it, been offered the job? Snape and he needed to have a chat.

So absorbed was Draco in his own thoughts that he almost missed Weasley's threat. But years of conditioned comebacks served him well. He could practically see the cogs turning as the prat tried to think of a retaliation. Thankfully they were all saved from an IQ lowering comment by a suddenly very alert Granger.

_Thank Merlin she's okay… I was so worried! Wait, no I wasn't. Quick say something witty and rude. Cover!cover!cover!_

Draco thought he had gotten away with his momentary lack of sanitybut when Granger's eyes met his own he could tell that she sensed something out of place. Truthfully he was just happy to see the light back in them, highlighting the chocolate specks scattered in the cinnamon…_ OooooK Draco, too much time spent with Granger._

Luckily Weasley chose that exact moment to showcase the extent of his birth induced brain damage. Seriously, what sort of moron would harass someone who looked like death warmed up? And really, like he had anything to do with it. Draco was about to tell Weasley just where he could shove his accusations when Granger decided to speak up.

'Ronald Billius Weasley! If you don't stop carrying on this instant I will be forced to owl your mother to inform her that her son saw fit to irritate me during this rather inappropriate moment. And I am sure that not even you are silly enough to believe that Malfoy would perform such a despicable act and then stick around to be blamed for it. Either quit being so immature or get out!'

Suck that Weasley! Watching that stupid git being put in his place was worth getting involved in this whole mess. Smirking to himself, Draco watched the changing of the guard. Maybe Potter would have more luck.

Well, at least Granger didn't look like she was going to curse scar head. That was a start. But then he asked the question Granger shouldn't have to answer. So Draco, begrudgingly, caught Potter's eye and answered for her.

Unsurprisingly the slight nod of his head caused a rather violent reaction from the sulking Weasley. What was more of a shock was that Potter seemed to actually grow a pair.

'For the love of Merlin! Shut up!'

As much as he was enjoying "pick on Ron" day, Draco felt obliged to mention that he thought the redhead might actually have a point. _I think I vomited a little in my mouth. _

If anyone was going to make Granger miserable it was going to be him. He had been working on his technique for years. She was his to torture and he was going to make such an example of that scum so that no one would dare to lay a finger on her ever again. Hanged, drawn and quartered in the great hall was sounding really good right now.

Once the colour had returned to Potter's face, it became apparent that this was a subject best broached at a later time. And fair enough. Granger had been through too much already.

When the decision was made to leave the room, Draco was more than happy to oblige. However a renewed increase in pressure reminded him that his hand was still being held prisoner by Granger's. While trying to think of a subtle way to free it, he noticed that Potter's sudden fixation with their entwined hands had caught Granger's attention. It became obvious that she was unaware of the situation.

Draco expected her to withdraw her hand in embarrassment. Instead her grip became impossibly tighter. And when her head turned and Granger's eyes found his, they screamed a simple unmistakable message, "DON'T LEAVE ME".

* * *

Unfortunately this fic is now on an indefinite hiatus.

Sorry guys but my Harry Potter muse just up and died on me. I really can't seem to write it anymore, no matter how hard I try. Trust me, I'm as disappointed as you. While writing this I grew so close to the characters and story. It kills me that it's not finished. But I am not giving up, nor am I losing faith. I WILL finish this one day. I SWEAR! I'm just not sure when…

A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, followed this story. Your support was awesome and I am so sorry to let you down. Hopefully I will be able to make it up to you sometime soon.

Kindest regards,

Jade xx


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